


Grey Matter

by Matrya



Series: Grief Fire [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cranial Combustion, Episode: s01e13 The Parting of the Ways, F/M, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-26
Updated: 2007-03-26
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:05:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/480843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matrya/pseuds/Matrya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tastes like copper and burns like a star.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grey Matter

She's still glowing and he doesn't understand because that was supposed to work. Instead, she's still glowing. Crying. She becomes less mournful, angrier by the second. "I need a fucking aspirin" is the first thing she says after they kiss. She grabs at her forehead, pulling her hands violently through her hair as a pained scream tears through her. She collapses to her knees and there's still that horrifying scream, her hands tearing at her face and thick locks of blond hair hang limply through her fingers, catching in her teeth and hanging from her mouth. She’s a vision. Wispy and glowing, howling in pain and it's morbidly beautiful as he sinks beside her and wraps his arms around her. He says he's sorry, over and over, but it isn't enough to be heard over her shrieks. She grasps at him, helplessly, her shrieks dying with his whispers and her voice coming out in a tone reminiscent of then, all full of tears and blood and so much pain. "What's happening?" He simply holds her closer to him, blinded by her light. She buries herself against him as he closes his eyes stoically, mouth set in a grim line. The tears and the screaming against his skin mix with something else and when he urgently holds her away by her shoulders, her face is a river of blood. Everywhere, everything, red and sticky and it makes the air he breathes, his mouth so close to her face he could kiss her again, it makes the air taste like copper and burns the streams of light with a red hue. And she's still a vision, a horrible vision, a study in how wrong he can do anything. She scrambles back from him, standing unsteadily and swaying so violently, body wracked with pain and vertigo. "My head--"

Her head is gone, scattering across the room. Matter landing against the TARDIS, against the consoles of this room in which she committed genocide, against him; loud noise accompanying it as her headless body slumps to the floor and Jack comes into view, all pretty life and warm hatred and anger and so many thing under so much shock, brain matter hanging off his face with all the artistry of a Picasso.

There’s the feel of wetness on his cheeks and the ghost of a caress against his lips and the desperate need for that glow.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Memo:** I don't check comments or kudos, but feel free to yell at me on [tumblr](http://matrya.tumblr.com) or [check out](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Matrya) my other writing!


End file.
